Serious Trouble at the InterNova Editorial Office. A Dramatic Dialogue
Geschrieben 14 October 2010 - 00:32
- Hi Michael
- Say, did you see Guy?
- What guy?
- Not what guy. Simply Guy. You know, the one from Tel Aviv.
- Oh, I understand. I think he's just uploaded himself.
- Well, he likes it.
- There are always these annoying bugs when he's coming back.
- I guess we're not in the position to tell him what to do in his spare time.
- Surely not. Maybe Richard is around?
- Oh, no. No. He's hiding.
- From what?
- Ah, you know, the girls.
- Shit, this guy is simply looking too good for his own good.
- What Guy?
- Forget it. What about Tabi?
- She's in Mexico. Swimming in the ocean and dancing and singing with her sexy friends.
- Oh yeah. I know there's always a problem even with the nicest woman.
- She's a born Mexican. It's in her blood. You can't blame her.
- Let me think... But Sergio must be around on a Wednesday evening. He is a wise man, a little older, you know.
- No, he's in his time capsule. Back in the 19th century, discussing some things with Schopenhauer and Nietzsche.
You know, Friedrich is rather fucked up at the moment. Writing a strange new book. "Why I'm so smart", "Why I'm
so wise" and shit like that. Wonder if he ever gets better.
- Oh, the hell. What do we pay them all for?
- We don't pay them.
- You're right. You're right.
- In fact, Lavie sent twelve bottles of French red wine yesterday. On his own account. For you to calm down
a little, you know.
- That's nice. But he knows that I don't drink.
- You do. I can smell it from here.
- It's not my smell of alcohol, it's yours.
- If you say so. Wait a minute...
- I think Claudia is next door. Playing with her band "I was born for loving you, baby". Maybe I should ask
her to come over, if she's serious with it.
- Oh, that's the noise all the time.
- It's no noise, you ignorant. She's great. I love her singing.
- I don't doubt it.
- Maybe I can help you
- Not with 1.4 per mille.
- 0.8. At most. What's all the fuss about anyway?
- I need someone to help me sort some things out. What's with Aleksandar?
- He is out in the park, listening to the birds and drawing some sketches. I think he even met a nice
- That's great news. That lucky guy.
- Why do you always blame Guy?
- But somebody must be around. Just one single soul.
- Of course there is. But there's a problem...
- Tell me.
- I would prefer not to.
- Talk, young Padawan.
- Well, it's...
- It's Frank.
- Well, he...
- He has dyed his hair black. You know what that means.
- No, not that Latin lover stunt again. I thought we hade driven that out of him.
- You know how he is.
- Yes, I do. Well, if fate has decided I will do it all alone.
- And what? What's so important?
- I wanted to select the new carpets for our library. I simply can't decide whether to order a
Penrose pattern or a classic Escher sketch.
- That's a tough one indeed.
- I'll find a way. What else can I do?
- Don't get depressive again. Take your pills.
- No. Bring me two bottles of the French red wine.
- Right away.
- And a drinking straw. I want to get drunk like a maniac.
- Now it's getting serious.
- By the way, where's Eric?
- On Mars. Researching for his new H.G. Wellsian story.
- I almost forgot. Give him my best wishes.
- I can get him online for you. As a hologram, you know.
- No, please. He always looks... well, somewhat inflated when on Mars. He's such a nice man. I don't like
to see him this way. Just greet him.
- I will.
- And off you go.
- Eh, yes. Just a minute.
- Take your time.
Geschrieben 14 October 2010 - 10:45
- Hey boys!
- Hey Sven!
- Do you want to link?
- Link what?
- My mouth-site to the bottle-site.
- You mean "Do you want to drink"?
- A possible interpretation.
- No, rather not.
- You drink too much.
- But without I have to die.
- Maybe we could freeze your brain.
- That would be great.
(whispering) - Then he can't write any more. (giggling)
- Oh, nothing. Just go on.
Neue Sciencefiction: www.svenklöpping.de
Mein Verlag: www.sternwerk.pmachinery.de
Geschrieben 28 September 2011 - 13:18
/KB (blokkt auch auf dt.)
Yay! SF-Monolog im Februar...
R.N.: Bald wird's dir richtig gut gehen. Schon bald.
(Letzte geflüsterte Worte eines Vampirbekämpfers zu einem Hund, grob übersetzt aus I am Legend, Gollancz Verlag, S. 100, by Matheson)
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